In the Starlight of Your Dreams
by SameDestination
Summary: (AU) 1998 - Dean has always hated cats. Castiel loves them. Dean is a high school drop-out who seems to be going nowhere in life. Cas is a college student with big plans for his future. They are two completely different people whose paths manage to cross accidentally. Dean is smitten from the start. Cas is cold and reserved. Can Dean win him over? Or are they just not meant to be?
1. Chapter 1

**Rating:**_ NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter)_

**Summary:**_ 1998 ~ Dean has always hated cats. Castiel loves them. Dean is a high school drop-out who seems to be going nowhere in life. Cas is a college student with big plans for his future. They are two completely different people whose paths manage to cross accidentally. Dean is smitten from the start. Cas is cold and reserved. Can Dean win him over? Or are they just not meant to be?_

**Pairings:**_ Dean/Castiel (more in later parts)_

**Warnings:**_ (for this chapter:) Swearing._

**Author's notes:**_ Hi! It's been a long time, guys. This is my new in-progress fic! I really hope you enjoy chapter one. Let me know what y'all think in the comments! All mistakes are my own :)_

* * *

_"The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy who loves you."_

_-Markus Zusak_

~ Spring, 1998 ~

_"It's a beautiful day here in Lawrence, Kansas with highs of around sixty-three degrees letting us know that spring has finally arrived. And, to add to all that glorious sunshine, here's some Guns 'n' Roses to get your day off to a great start. Enjoy."_

As _'Paradise City'_ began seeping through the car radio speakers, Dean rolled his window down to allow the fresh, mild air to fill the car. His watch read 8.44am and Sam was sitting in the passenger seat doing some last minute studying with his shaggy hair rustling a little in the steady breeze.

Even though Dean was a little tired from having to get up so early to take his little brother to school since their mom had to go into work early, he couldn't help but smile as he tapped his fingers lightly against the steering wheel in time to the music. It was one of those days where the atmosphere was set simply by the weather. It was like a lazy summer's day in the middle of March. Everything felt right with the world and Dean couldn't find it in him to complain about anything as the sun shone down, painting the road ahead of them in a golden hue.

"So, big test today, Sasquatch?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam who simply nodded in response.

"Biology," was the only answer Dean received right before Sam closed over his book and began mouthing silent words to himself as Dean chuckled fondly, shaking his head.

Dean admired his little brother so much. He knew that big brothers weren't really meant to look up to their little brothers, but he couldn't help it; the kid was freakin' smart, and a much better person than he'd ever be. But he worked way too hard. Or maybe Dean just didn't work hard enough and didn't really expect his brother to either. Sam had always been the brains of their family, ever since he was a little kid. Most siblings would've felt threatened by or jealous of Sam's intelligence, but Dean was just glad that at least one of them was able to make their parents proud.

Not that it took much to make their mom proud anyway. The moment Dean started walking she had apparently burst into tears, same when Sam began talking. Her love for them, even when they'd both been a handful at times, would never cease to amaze Dean. He smiled at the thought of what his mom would be like the day Sam graduated from college. She was going to be a proud, beautiful, sobbing mess and Dean was going to make sure he was there to hold her up and cheer for Sam from the audience at the same time.

Thanks to his daydreaming, Dean wasn't really paying one-hundred percent undivided attention to the road ahead. He was even humming along to_ Paradise City_ as he put a little more pressure on the accelerator, grinning to himself when Sam continuously told him to slow down. Maybe he should listen to his little brother a bit more.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as a tiny ball of fur suddenly scurried out onto the road, right into the Impala's path.

Dean cursed under his breath and tried to slow down, grip on the steering wheel tightening as memories of his last car crash filled his head. The squeal of brakes filled the air, but it was too late. The bumper of the car collided with the kitten quite roughly, sending it tumbling off its feet and falling sidewards onto the road in front of the Impala.

Once the car had finally fully stopped, Sam climbed out immediately, almost tripping over his backpack in his hurry to get to the injured cat. Dean took a moment to compose himself, taking deep breaths and trying not to think about that car crash ten years ago which killed his dad.

He watched out the window as his little brother fell to his knees beside the cat. He looked so concerned and worried about the thing that it seemed to rub off on Dean and he too was soon climbing out of the car to stare down at the fluffy little thing. It had black fur, a long tail, perky ears and a tiny pink nose.

The kitten was in obvious discomfort and making soft whimpering sounds as its blue eyes kept glancing up at Dean pleadingly. When Dean's gaze met Sam's, he noticed that he was giving him the same damn look that the cat was with a huge pout to go with it. He shook his head adamantly when he realized what Sam wanted him to do.

"Aha, _no_. Absolutely not," Dean said in his best stern voice, hands on his hips. "I don't have the money to take some stray to a vet."

"Not a vet. There's a shelter a few miles away. They take care of the cats then find them new homes and stuff," Sam replied, the tone of his voice almost begging and Dean was having a hard enough time trying to resist those big puppy-dog eyes. "Dean, _please_?"

Dean sighed heavily and looked away, thinking silently for a few moments. He knew that if he left the cat here to suffer, Sam would never forgive him. But, he was allergic and cat hairs would surely be all over the inside of the Impala afterward. Would he really risk sneezing his brain out of his nostrils every time he climbed into his own car for the sake of one stupid cat?

Apparently so because - after deciding that it was probably best to take the cat to the shelter to avoid Sam hating him for life - he glanced down at his little brother with a nod, but not before shooting the tiny kitten a glare. "Whatever. But, you owe me. And you're cleaning the car out when you get home."

The happiness on his little brother's face as he got to his feet, carrying the kitten protectively in his arms towards the Impala was heartwarming and rewarding. Dean knew he'd made the right decision. It wasn't like he'd have a lifetime commitment by taking the kitten to the shelter anyway, right?

* * *

About half an hour later, they arrived outside a building which looked like a warehouse from the outside. It had a huge sign above it reading, _'Kitty-Kats Rehoming & Rescue Centre'_. Dean scoffed to himself at the overly-happy font and colours of the banner; he pictured the staff inside to be just as over-enthusiastic as the exterior of the building.

The truth was; Dean hated cats. Absolutely detested them.

When they were kids, Sam had found a stray one and brought it home with him. The thing was infested with fleas and the whole family was itching for days afterwards. Also, it ruined an otherwise good pie that Dean had baked for his mom. _'Scruffy'_, as Sam had affectionately named it due to its worse-for-wear appearance, had decided it was a good idea to just walk right over Dean's pie leaving huge paw marks in its wake. Dean knew it was immature, but he had been furious ever since.

The minute they stepped into the building, it smelled distinctly like cats. Well, obviously, but the stench was overwhelming almost smelling like wet dogs and cleaning products. Dean wrinkled up his nose, taking a look around. He could already feel his allergy coming on, his nostrils flaring with irritation.

They were in what looked to be like a lobby of some sort. There was a desk cluttered with paperwork and a few empty coffee cups, but no one was standing behind it. Opposite the desk was a few rows of blue chairs. The lighting in the space made the room headache-inducingly bright and the yellow walls were just far too cheery. It looked like the children's ward of a hospital or something. Except that there were cat hairs everywhere, on the cushioning of the seats and clinging to the welcome mat by the door.

To top it all off there were pictures all over the walls of cats and kittens, both cartoonized and real, with stupid quotes underneath them which overused ridiculous puns such as, _'Cats make purrfect pets'_, _'How you feline?'_, and the weirdest one, in Dean's opinion, a cat dressed as Uncle Sam pointing its paw towards him with, _'you are pawsome'_ as a caption.

Finally, the door behind the desk - which had a 'staff only' sign taped onto it - swung open and a scrawny guy with dark, messy hair appeared. He wore tight, black jeans and a plaid button up which ironically wasn't buttoned up along with a normal white tee underneath. And then he saw those eyes. Dean couldn't even describe them without sounding like a sappy romance novelist because damn if they didn't sparkle like the fucking ocean and- he shook his head, trying to snap out of the spell the guy seemed to have put him under as soon as their eyes met. Maybe this detour wasn't going to be so bad after all.

A weak grin spread across Dean's face as he checked the guy out absently. He stood as if he had a pole stuck up his ass and he seemed to have a permanent unamused expression on his face. Or maybe Dean had just interrupted his smoking break judging by the chesty cough that left the guy's mouth before he spoke.

"Can I help you?" were the first words to come out of the guy's mouth and Dean was shocked at the deep, gravelly tone to his voice. Holy shit.

Dean didn't know how long he stood there looking like a complete idiot with his lips parted as he stared at the guy who'd just appeared. He just couldn't believe how goddamn attractive this guy was. It took Sam clearing his throat awkwardly to shake Dean out of his daze.

"Y-Yes, you definitely can," Dean replied in a flirtatious voice, one eyebrow raised as he rested his elbow against the desk. He grinned at the guy who, unfortunately, didn't seem in the least bit impressed with Dean's flirting. Maybe he wasn't even gay.

The guy simply sighed and turned to look at Sam, obviously deciding that he was the easier Winchester to deal with. "Is that cat yours?"

"No," Sam replied, frowning down at the little ball of fur in his arms that was staring up at him with sad eyes. "My brother wasn't watching where he was driving and accidentally knocked it over."

Dean scoffed, straightening himself up with a bemused expression on his face. "Excuse you. I'm an excellent driver. That ... thing wasn't looking where it was going and crossed the road at the wrong time. Not my fault."

The expression on Sam's face suggested that he was embarrassed by his big brother's tone. Good. That was Dean's job after all. As a big brother, he had an obligation to humiliate the fuck out of his little brother no matter what it took.

Mysterious Mr. Blue-Eyes glanced over at the cat in Sam's arms for a second before lifting the hatch on the desk and walking over to examine the cat which was now wriggling about in Sam's arms.

Dean could smell the waft of smoke off of the guy as he passed and he had no idea why he found that so damn alluring when he didn't even have any kind of weird smoking kink.

"So, what's wrong with it?" he asked, trying to ignore the slight jealousy brought on by the fact that the guy was all over his little brother instead of him. Okay, maybe not literally, and maybe not in that way. But still.

"Do I look like a vet?" the guy asked, the tone of his voice indicating that he was more than irritated by Dean and his questions, still prodding and poking at the kitten in Sam's arms.

Dean was shocked by his tone and his eyebrows shot up as he watched Sam purse his lips, trying hard not to laugh. Dean checked the guy out again slowly. Okay, he may not look like a vet but how was Dean supposed to know that?

"And it's a he," the dude continued before taking the kitten carefully out of Sam's arms. "I'm going to take him down to the vet's office and get him checked over." He then grabbed a few forms from the desk and handed them to Sam along with a pen. "Just fill out these contact forms and you're free to go."

As Sam began filling in the forms for them, Dean watched the guy walking away. He let out a slow puff of air as his gaze settled on that ass. He decided right then and there that he should at least give it a shot. What harm could it do?

"Hey, wait!" he called when the guy was already halfway down the corridor. He turned around, looking adorable with that kitten pawing at his shirt.

"What?"

"We should maybe ... y'know, hang out sometime?" Dean suggested with his best charming grin, one hand in his pocket.

He watched the blue-eyed stranger eye him up and down for a second before looking him right in the eye and saying bluntly, "Not a chance."

Dean was left standing there with his mouth hanging open and his cheeks flushing with colour. He could hear his little brother snickering from the lobby. It took a while for him to get himself together and turn back around to pass his little brother on the way out, slapping him over the back of the head. "Shut up, Sammy," he muttered.

Dean was left standing there with his mouth hanging open and his cheeks flushing with colour. He could hear his little brother snickering from the lobby. It took a while for him to get himself together and turn back around to pass his little brother on the way out, slapping him over the back of the head. "Shut up, Sammy," he muttered.

Sam groaned frustratedly, following Dean out of the building. "My name is Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes as he climbed into his car. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, turning the key in the ignition, his baby's beautiful purr helping to ease the pain of his damaged ego.

When Sam managed to somehow fold himself into the Impala, he rolled up his sleeve to take a look at the watch on his wrist. All Dean heard was a sharp intake of breath before Sam opened his book again, flipping through the pages swiftly.

"Dean, I'm late," he said, causing Dean to chuckle a little, earning him a death-glare from Sam.

"What? Lighten up, skyscraper. I'll get you there on time," he assured him before pushing his foot down against the accelerator, grinning as the engine roared to life and the car sped down the road towards town.

* * *

Warm days in Lawrence also had their downsides. They meant that Dean was sweating like a pig the whole time he was working his ass off. Even though Dean liked to believe it was, his work wasn't exactly difficult. He had been lucky that the moment he dropped out of high school, he had a job waiting for him at Singer's Salvage Yard. It was owned by a close family friend called Bobby who was like a second father to Dean.

All through the week, Dean worked from nine 'til six fixing up cars. Since Lawrence wasn't a big town, Dean was lucky enough to only have a few oil or tire changes a day and that was it. But some days, there'd be cars that needed hours of work. Dean would never complain though, because he was far too grateful that he even had a job. Being a nineteen year old high school dropout with no qualifications, it would've been absolutely impossible for Dean to get a job if it wasn't for Bobby's kindness. Yeah, he wasn't exactly earning gold and silver by the bucketload, but he honestly liked his job and saw that as way more important right now. Although, there was another job he'd love so much more; his dream job that was becoming less and less possible to achieve everyday he spent not chasing it.

* * *

For the whole week after the kitten incident, Dean found himself being constantly pestered by Sam every single night. He was pretty much begged to go back to the cat shelter to check on how the kitten was healing and if it had found an owner yet. Sometimes he hated Sam and his caring nature.

Dean tried to tell him that the damn stray was not their responsibility, but he definitely didn't plan on saying no to paying Mr. 'how can I help you?' another visit. Even if he was kinda rejected last time, he was sure he'd eventually be able to win him over.

That was how he ended up heading towards the shelter straight after work on Friday afternoon. Granted, he wasn't exactly looking his best in his random old white tee and torn blue jeans with grease and dirt trapped under his fingernails. He briefly contemplated heading home to take a shower and change, but it was already shortly after 6pm and the shelter closed at 6.30. He'd have no time at all. And besides, he didn't want to look too desperate to see and impress this guy who was a complete stranger. A completely hot stranger.

The scent of cats filled his nostrils once again as the door clicked shut behind him. Dean ran a hand through his hair as he waited patiently for the people in front of him to finish their time at the desk. It looked like a man and woman had brought their daughter here to pick out a cat to adopt.

The little blonde girl was holding a small, ginger kitten in her arms with a huge smile on her face. Dean couldn't help but smile too, even though kittens weren't his definition of happiness, the joy of the little girl was certainly radiating all through the room.

Her parents were filling out some forms at the desk as the little girl turned to have a walk around with her new pet. She skipped around a little, humming happily as the kitten purred contentedly in her arms. The little girl couldn't take her eyes off the kitten for one second which caused her to not look where she was going. A few seconds later she accidentally bumped into Dean before looking up at him, cheeks flushing a little.

"I-I'm sorry, Mister," she said, voice soft and quiet as she offered Dean a shy smile.

Dean just chuckled, shaking his head. "It's okay. Who's your new friend?" he asked, glancing at the kitten who was now licking at its fur.

"I'm gunna call him Ginger," she answered, a proud smile on her face as she tickled the kitten's belly.

"Alice, time to go," the woman said, walking over to wrap her arm around her daughter's shoulder, looking weary of her talking to strangers.

Dean waved goodbye to the girl who waved back at him. When they had left, Dean was still smiling to himself as he made his way to the desk where he expected to see that gorgeous guy standing there with a bored expression on his face. But he didn't.

Instead, in his place was a short, blonde woman. He tried to hide his disappointment and remember what he actually came here to do: check up on the cat. She filed away the forms the family before Dean had been filling out before looking up at him with a cheerful smile.

"Hello there, welcome to Kitty-Kats Rehoming and Rescue Centre. How can I help you today?"

Dean wiped his irritated nose with the back of his hand quickly before flashing a charming smile at the woman. She had a badge pinned neatly to her turquoise polo shirt reading, 'Becky'.

"Well, my brother and I ran over a cat last week," he could already feel her judging him silently and regretted using that exact phrase as a conversation starter, "and we brought it- him here. We just wanna know how he's doing."

Becky's expressions changed from judgemental to understanding in under a second and she began searching through some folders. "What's your name?"

"Dean. Dean Winchester. Actually, it'll probably be in my brother's name 'cause he filled out the forms. So, Sam Winchester," he replied, watching her sift through tons of paper folders, sighing and tutting irritably to herself.

"We really need to get these put on a computer or something, it'd be much easier," she muttered to herself before finally grabbing a folder and tugging it out with a victorious grin on her face. "Aha, here it is."

Dean chuckled to himself. Sam was a computer whizz-kid and he could definitely help transfer those records onto computer if he wanted to. But Dean was going to wait until that guy was here so that it would give him something to talk to him about.

After flipping through a few pages, Becky nodded and looked back up at Dean. "Mhm, the kitten is doing awesome, he just had a broken leg and the vet said that will take four to six weeks to heal but he should make a full recovery."

Well thank god for that, Dean thought to himself as he nodded at the news, at least Sam wouldn't be pestering him to come back week after week after week to check on the thing. Maybe he will though. And maybe Dean will secretly enjoy the visits if he finds out more about the guy. He mentally kicked himself for not looking at his name badge that day.

Dean cleared his throat and put on his most charming grin and rubbed the back of his neck with a breathy chuckle. "Uhm ... I know this is a weird question but, there was this guy here last week when we brought the cat in," he said, face flushing as Becky grinned at him as if she knew exactly why he was asking and who he was asking for. "Tall, skinny, blue-"

"Blue eyes?" she finished for him with a knowing smirk.

He just exhaled and nodded, smiling weakly at her and feeling a little like a teenage kid with a stupid crush. "I was just wondering if he actually works in here or ...?"

"Oh yeah, he's a volunteer," Becky replied. "Works from four 'til six-thirty Monday to Thursday and nine 'til one on Fridays."

So, he'd just missed him today then. Damnit.

He sighed, nodding his head again. He must've looked and sounded ridiculous asking for information about this guy from his co-worker, but he really wanted to see him again. He didn't know what it was about this guy but he'd never felt like this about anyone before. Maybe it was the messy hair or the big blue eyes. Whatever it was, Dean only knew that he wanted to get to know him. It was like he was drawn to him by some invisible force. Like gravity.

He thanked Becky with a polite smile before turning to walk towards the door. The moment he rested his hand on the handle, he remembered that there was one more thing he needed to know.

"What's his name?" he asked, head turned to look back at Becky who was getting ready to leave.

"Castiel," she chirped. "I'll let him know you were asking for him." She then sent a wink Dean's way and he was pretty sure his face was glowing red right then.

As he left, a grin spread across his face. He would come see this 'Castiel' after work on Monday and use the cat as an excuse. Perfect.

* * *

The weekend seemed to drag by slowly. Sam was satisfied with the knowledge that the poor little stray was safe and recovering well. Dean didn't really give a damn about the cat, he was more preoccupied with the thought of those blue eyes, that dark hair and that deep, husky voice.

_Castiel_. It was a weird name, it didn't exactly roll off Dean's tongue easily. He looked the name up in the phonebook just out of curiosity but came up with nothing. Well, obviously; he didn't know his surname yet.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Why was Dean obsessing over a guy he hardly knew? He was looking in the phonebook for his name for Christ's sake. This was borderline stalking now. As he slammed the phonebook shut and threw it to the ground, Dean made a promise to himself not to think about Castiel for the rest of the weekend until he saw him at the cat shelter on Monday night.

Surprisingly, he actually managed to keep that promise. On Saturday, he hung out with Jo, Aaron and Adam and they went partying late into the night. After that, he stumbled home on Sunday morning with a horrible hangover which his mom nursed him through by tending to his every need whilst he lay in bed groaning about his sore head and his nausea all day whilst watching Dr. Sexy re-runs on television.

After spending the whole of Sunday cooped up in his room getting over his hangover from Hell, the last thing Dean wanted to do on Monday morning was get out of bed to go to work. He did it though, he forced himself out of his messy bed and right into the shower in an attempt to wake himself up. He didn't feel in the least bit awake until he finally remembered what was happening today.

_Castiel._

Dean was in the middle of fixing a car's radio at the garage when he remembered and he couldn't stop grinning for hours afterwards, it was an instant mood-booster. Bobby teased him mercilessly, telling him that he'd never seen him so happy and constantly asking him who the mystery girl or guy was. Dean never spilled the beans though, it wasn't like he even knew who exactly Castiel was or if he was even gay or bi or whatever. He was just a mysterious blue-eyed stranger who smoked. That was all he knew for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rating:**_ NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter)_

**Summary:**_ 1998 ~ Dean has always hated cats. Castiel loves them. Dean is a high school drop-out who seems to be going nowhere in life. Cas is a college student with big plans for his future. They are two completely different people whose paths manage to cross accidentally. Dean is smitten from the start. Cas is cold and reserved. Can Dean win him over? Or are they just not meant to be?_

**Pairings:**_ Dean/Castiel, Ash/Bela (for this chapter)_

**Warnings:**_ (for this chapter) swearing, smoking, alcohol, attempted sexual assault and minor violence._

**Author's notes:**_ Happy Halloween everyone! All mistakes are my own :)_

* * *

**- CASTIEL -**

He hated him.

Cas decided that when he was stuck on the phone to an over-excited Becky on Sunday night as she told him how 'a cute guy' visited the shelter on Friday asking about him. Admittedly, it did take him a while to realize who the hell she was blabbering on and on about, but when he did, he decided that the guy was beginning to get real annoying and worthy of an ass-kicking if he didn't stop stalking him. Then Becky went ahead and said that she had told the guy his shift times and Castiel got even more pissed. Great.

Now he'd constantly be dreading every time the door swung open at the shelter when he was there. It wasn't that he didn't find the guy attractive or anything; in fact, he didn't really get the chance to check him out. It wasn't that he was scared of Mr. Green Eyes; the guy wasn't in the least bit intimidating. It was just the fact that he could tell exactly what the guy wanted from him by the looks he gave him, like a predator getting ready to zone in on their poor defenseless prey. Well, Cas certainly wasn't that poor defenseless prey the he was looking for. He was not going to let him get into his pants. Not that easily.

Cas knew that all leather jacket guy probably wanted was sex anyway. It was what any normal, hormonally-charged, teenage guy had ever wanted from him and he stopped all that shit months ago when he realized it was hurting him emotionally and turning him into something he wasn't.

Monday was an average day at college. He went to his morning classes, ate lunch at a nearby cafe with Charlie and Balthazar and then went to his afternoon classes before walking to work. Thankfully the weather was still holding up and he managed to get there before the rain started. Becky was still on at the desk for another hour, so he just muttered a 'hi' to her, left his bag in the staff room and headed to the laundry room to put a few items into the washing machines.

Once he was finished there, he made his way to the main shelter area. He did the same thing every time someone else was at the desk. The cats and kittens they sheltered there were no doubt the best part of his day, and spending time with them hardly felt like a job. Though this time he was drawn to that little ball of fluff that his stalker brought in like some big knight in shining armor last Friday.

Castiel crouched down with a small smile on his face to peer into his enclosed run. The little kitten was stretching against a scratching pole, dragging it's tiny claws down it as he yawned widely. It was beyond adorable to watch.

Castiel loved cats. Ever since he was a kid, all he wanted was a house full of cats running about, jumping on furniture and being generally playful. He still remembered the first kitten he ever owned. He was only four years old at the time and had called it 'Flame' since she was ginger and full of life. She'd lived well into her teens and Castiel was heartbroken when she died, and that was how he finally decided to volunteer at the shelter.

After he stepped into the run that leather jacket guy's kitten was in, he sat on the floor and reached out to stroke his fur gently. "Hey there," he whispered, chuckling softly when the little kitten began to purr and rub up against his finger eagerly. Usually he'd give all of the cats equal amounts of his attention, but today he found himself all focused on the playful little furball that the green-eyed guy had brought in. He tried to tell himself that it was just because the furry little kitten was one of the cutest in the whole shelter, but there were plenty of cute kittens here at the shelter, so why was he so drawn to this one?

Suddenly, there was a soft rap of knuckles against the side of the cubby that Cas was in, shaking him out of his thoughts. He turned around to see Becky standing there with an excited smile on her face. "Someone's here to see you," she giggled, twirling a strand of her long, blonde hair between her fingers. Castiel sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. He knew who it was without even having to guess. Leather jacket guy.

After giving the kitten one last scratch under his chin, Cas rose to his feet before leaving the run and heading back up the hallway towards the lobby where, sure enough, the smug bastard was leaning against the desk.

"What do you want?" Cas asked, hoping his voice expressed his irritation effectively enough. If his voice didn't, his fed-up expressions and body language sure would.

Becky cleared her throat from somewhere behind him before correcting him in a polite manner, "How can we help you?"

The guy looked taken aback by Castiel's attitude and he tried not to smirk at that. He watched him straighten up before that same overly-confident grin graced his lips once again. "I was just thinking about what you said the other day." His eyes were now focused on Becky. Castiel folded his arms across his chest - which was now covered in cat hairs - and stared at leather jacket guy expectantly, waiting for whatever he had to say. "About your filing system," he continued, "and how you need it transferred to your computer."

"Oh yeah," Becky acknowledged, nodding her head as she slipped past the hatch and over to where there was a mountain of folders scattered messily across the desk. "It's getting kinda crazy. You know someone who could do it? I mean, I'd do it myself but I'm far too busy-"

"No, we are not hiring at the moment," Castiel interrupted rudely, tempted to begin tapping his foot on the floor impatiently. The guy's gaze was suddenly fixed with his and Castiel felt scrutinized and insecure. So much so, that he had to look away before he got hypnotized or something.

"That's not what I was meaning," the guy muttered before glancing over at Becky again. "My brother's a smart kid, good with computers and all that shit. Maybe he could do it for you." Castiel rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Ever the hero this guy was. He seemed like the type of guy who loved any attention he could get his hands on. Pathetic.

"Totally! That'd be awesome actually!" Becky answered in that high-pitched, excited tone that was probably in the same league as nails scraping down a chalkboard.

"Awesome, I'll get him to call you guys. What's the contact number of this place?" the guy asked as he tugged out his beat up Nokia phone from his pocket.

Becky proceeded to giving the guy the number for the shelter and continued to thank him profusely. Castiel felt like telling the guy to stick to his day job when he began acting all modest. It was all so blatantly fake. Everything about the guy was fake, everything from his personality to his leather jacket.

"Really, Becky? You brought me all the way up here for nothing?" Cas sighed before turning around to walk away back down the hallway. Then he heard the guy calling his name and his eyes widened as he stopped in his tracks and turned back around slowly with one eyebrow raised. "How do you know my-?"

"Oh, that's my fault, sorry! I told him when he came in last week looking for you," Becky told him, grimacing slightly.

Cas huffed out a breath, shaking his head again. How was she even employed? "What do you want? I'm working," he growled at the guy, staring over at him expectantly.

"I want your number," the guy replied flirtatiously, wriggling his eyebrows and looking like a damn fool.

There was silence for a few seconds before Castiel took a few steps into leather jacket guy's personal space, staring him right in the eye. "Yeah, sure, of course. It's: seven-eight-five-get-lost-dickhead." He then smiled sarcastically before turning to walk away again.

"Do I really have to come back here every week 'til you give me your number?!" the guy's voice echoed down the hallway.

Cas just shrugged, not stopping or turning around as he answered with fake cheerfulness, "Not really, 'cause it's never gonna happen."

* * *

**- DEAN -**

Dean had never been one to give up easily. Not with potential boy/girlfriends that was for sure. So, why would things be any different with this guy? Sure, he was playing hard to get and acting like an angry, misunderstood teenager. Dean had dealt with people like him before though, but he just couldn't seem to get him out of his mind.

He visited the shelter once more that week, on Friday during his lunch break to 'check on the kitten' even though he sneezed like hell when Castiel led him down to let him see the furball for a while. God, the things he did in order to spend time with someone who treated him like shit were unbelievably pathetic. He tried his charm, wit and natural good sense in humor in an attempt to score Castiel's cell number. But all he left with was a lowered self-esteem and a glare from the guy he was majorly crushing on.

Wow, way to go, Winchester.

It was Thursday of the next week when he came up with another tactic. Since he had the shelter's contact number and not Castiel's, he decided to call him that way to talk. Nervous butterflies were fluttering around in his stomach as he dialed those numbers before raising his phone to his ear and listening to the tone for several moments before he finally got an answer of, "Hello, Kitty-Kats Rehoming and Rescue Centre. How may I help you?"

Dean got chills - and also felt all warm and uncomfortable - listening to that gravelly voice speak right into his ear like that. God, this was not the time to be having dirty thoughts of what Castiel would sound if they were together all naked and sweaty in bed— He had to quickly shake himself out of those thoughts before clearing his throat as he twirled the phone cable idly between his fingers. "You can help me by agreeing to go on a date with me," Dean replied with a mischievous grin as he sat down on the edge of his bed. He could hear him sighing heavily and moving about some papers in the background.

"Well then, I definitely do not want to help you. Goodbye," he replied.

"No, no! Wait!" Dean shouted, holding his hand out as if that would somehow magically stop someone who was more than five miles away. "Why are you being so hard to get, Dude?"

"Hard to get? You think that's what I'm being?" Castiel chuckled dryly. "No, what I'm being is sensible. I know what guys like you want and I'm not prepared to lose that much respect for myself by lowering myself to your level. So, no thank you."

"Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel two inches tall, huh?" Dean sighed, frowning. He felt like there was nothing he could do to win this guy over. He was completely exhausted. Maybe it was just far too much work running after this guy. Maybe Dean had finally found someone he couldn't have.

There was silence on the other end before Castiel lowered his voice a little to say, "Don't bother me at work again, ok?" Then the line went dead and Dean must've sat there listening to it for ages afterward like a love-sick teenager.

**- CASTIEL-**

Stupid leather jacket guy bothering him at work. Now Cas was stuck with two troublesome new arrivals along with his coffee spilled all over the desk and a horrible mood to go with it. He would never say it out loud, but this guy was really starting to get to him. His relentless flirting and how he tried way too freakin' hard were both irritating and maybe a little endearing at the same time.

But, no, Cas was never going to hook up with him, he made it a promise to himself. He'd go celibate if that was what it took. The whole week, Castiel tried hard not to think about the emerald-eyed stranger. He applied himself to his college work instead, studying hard for the end of semester exams which were coming up scarily soon. And, when he wasn't slaving over his untidy desk at home with five mugs of coffee and tons of notes surrounding him, he was at college or work. At work, he found it more difficult not to think of Mr Leather Jacket with the nice smile and the pretty eyes and the freckles on his n-

Sure, he'd look after all the other cats and make sure they were comfortable and well-fed, but his favorite was definitely Midnight. Oh yeah ... he'd now given the scruffy little kitten a name. It was because of his dark black fur. Maybe he was getting way too attached to 'Midnight' with the way he let him curl up on his lap when the lobby was quiet as he flipped through some magazines or how, when he went out back for a smoke, he'd let Midnight run around his feet. But he didn't care, he liked Midnight, but he definitely didn't like Leather Jacket guy. Not at all.

He hated how he wasn't allowed to have pets in his apartment. It was one of the worst rules of the damn place. That and not being allowed to smoke in or around the premises. It sucked. If he had it his way, he'd have piles of cats and kittens running about in his room.

That was the worst thing about being a college student who lived in a shitty apartment that he had rented from the biggest asshole he'd ever met. Castiel would spot an adorable cat at the shelter and just fall in love with it causing him to get extremely upset that he couldn't adopt it and take it home with him. He would totally adopt Midnight if he could. Maybe he would once he finished college and got an apartment of his own. Hopefully no one would choose to adopt him before then. Cas promised to do everything in his power to stop that from happening.

* * *

Castiel didn't see or hear from Leather Jacket guy all of the next week. Which was probably a good thing since it gave him time, when the shelter was quiet, to study for his exams. Though he tried hard not to feel disappointed that he didn't get the chance to shoot the guy down again or insult him wittily. Yeah, he definitely missed the hatred he had for him along with their never ending banter. However, he didn't have to wait for long to see that annoying, fake leather jacket guy who he didn't find hot one bit.

It was the next weekend when Castiel was starting his Friday night off at a local bar with his college friends, Balthazar and Charlie. They'd already downed a fair amount of tequila shots each and were now sipping at their pints of beer as they sat around a table at the back of the bar laughing and relaxing after a hard week filled with exams and stress. Castiel was sat with his legs resting on the table between them with a cigarette hanging limp between his fingers in one hand and his half-empty pint glass in the other.

"So, her head was literally up my skirt, and she was really going for it, right?" Charlie continued in her story about her latest sexual adventure.

Balthazar groaned, rubbing his eyes as he shook his head. "No, god, please. Really, Charlotte, as much as I love listening to your fascinating sexual exploits, I really think I should be more drunk right now."

Charlie rolled her eyes before nodding and humming in agreement. "Yeah, I know," she muttered, gulping down the last droplets of her beer before shoving her pint glass into Castiel's hand. "It's your round, blue eyes."

"Yes, get off that pretty little ass of yours and get us some more drinks, Cassie," Balthazar purred, handing Cas his glass just as he stood up.

Cas took one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it into the ashtray sat in the middle of their table.

"Oh, and it looks like someone's been eyeing you all night." Balthazar nodded over to where a guy was standing at the bar, eyes fixed on Cas.

Leather Jacket guy.

"Shit," he sighed, frowning over at him.

"What? You know him?" Balthazar asked, surprise lacing his voice. "He's kinda hot."

"Was he a good lay?" Charlie chimed in causing Cas to glare at both of them as they snickered like a pair of immature teenagers.

"Shut up, both of you. I did not sleep with him. He's just this irritating dick who's been stalking me for the past few weeks," he groaned, running a hand through his hair frustratedly.

"Well, it sure looks like he wants to fuck you senseless, so bring our drinks back before you leave with him, ok?" Balthazar said, patting Cas on the back with a smirk on his face that Castiel was tempted to punch right off. Instead, he just scowled, glaring in warning at the already tipsy Balthazar who apparently couldn't hold his drink for shit.

"I am not going to leave with him. I don't even remotely like him," he explained before turning on his heels and making his way towards the bar with three pint glasses in his hands. He was confident that he could manage to get back to his table without too much interaction with the guy.

Once he got there, he set the glasses down on the bar and slipped his wallet out of his shirt pocket. "Three beers, please," he asked the barmaid who immediately began pulling the pints. There really was no use praying that the guy wouldn't notice him, Cas just never seemed to have that sort of luck. So, he decided to just play it cool. He didn't even glance anywhere in his general direction as he kept his attention focused on the barmaid.

**- DEAN -**

Stop being such a pussy and just say hi to him, Winchester.

Dean had no idea why he was trying so hard to pluck up the courage to start a conversation with a guy who had humiliated him over a week ago by making him feel like shit. It was pointless. And yet, he still didn't seem to want to give up.

"Castiel? Hi," were the words that finally fell out of his mouth without command. Dean congratulated himself on not sounding nervous or croaky as he watched Cas turn his head slowly to look at him, lips pursed together in what could only be immense irritation.

"Hello," he muttered plainly before turning back to stare at the barmaid again.

Then Dean started having doubts. What if Castiel wasn't actually gay or bi or whatever? What if he was reaching for something that he had no chance with here? Or maybe Dean was just being a little too cocky. He knew that he was a good looking guy, but what if he wasn't the sex-god he believed himself to be? God, if only Castiel wasn't so damn confusing and mysterious all the time.

He was served his own drinks by a barman who took his money before handing back his change with a polite smile. Before he left to return to his table where Jo and Ash were waiting, Dean decided to try his luck one last time just for the sake of it.

"Wanna have a drink with me?" he asked before clearing his throat awkwardly and glancing down at the glasses in his hands. "I mean, you could come have a drink with me and my friends."

"No. I'm with my friends tonight and I'm certainly not going to just leave them for someone like you."

Dean sighed as he watched Castiel pay for his drinks before heading back to his table. Okay, maybe he stared a little too long at his ass, but he couldn't resist when Castiel was wearing jeans that tight. He made his way back to his own table shortly afterward, setting the drinks down at the table with a slight frown on his face.

"So, who was the guy?" Jo pried, taking a sip from her beer bottle, watching him expectantly.

Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head. God, he definitely did not wanna talk about his constant humiliation. "No one. He was … no one," he replied absently, taking a long sip of his own beer before nudging Ash's foot with his own under the table. "Dude, what was up last weekend? I heard you hooked up with Bela or somethin'," he said, trying to change the subject completely. Ash grinned widely like the freakin' Cheshire Cat and Dean huffed out a laugh. "Seriously, dude?"

"All I'm sayin' s'that she's a feisty woman ... Outside and inside of the bedroom," Ash answered before leaning back and taking a long sip of his drink, winking at Dean who was chuckling to himself, ignoring Jo's eyes still on him.

As the night went on and Ash began making a fool out of himself by flirting with every girl who so much as glanced at him across the bar. Dean found himself glancing over at Cas at least every other second. He watched him finish at least three cigarettes, helping to add to the pollution of the air in the bar which was becoming more and more stuffy like it was every Saturday night. Dean also noticed cute little habits Castiel had like running his fingers through his hair and chewing on his lips almost constantly.

Jo managed to distract him for almost ten minutes with her drunken stories before he returned to staring over at Castiel once again. Except, there was someone new at his table. An older guy with black hair and a black suit on, looking quite smart. He was leaning over him and by the looks on their faces Dean guessed it was about something serious. When Castiel's other friends headed towards the rest rooms, the guy wrapped his hand around Castiel's arm and tugged him to his feet before leading him outside roughly and Dean instantly got worried. What the hell was going on? Whatever it was, Dean knew it certainly wasn't any of his business.

**- CASTIEL -**

"Ouch! God- Seriously, Crowley, let go of me," Cas growled, trying to tug his arm away from Crowley who'd managed to drag him out of the bar and into a dark alleyway at the side of it.

Fergus Macleod, or 'Crowley' as he preferred, was his ex. That was it. His ex. His past. Except, since Crowley was his landlord and Castiel hadn't paid the last few months' rent, he kinda owed him a whole lot of money. Money which he didn't have. "You got my rent money this month, Milton?" he asked, pinning Cas up against the wall, causing him to groan, close his eyes and turn his head away as Crowley's alcohol-stenched breath ghosted across his face.

He swallowed thickly before opening his eyes to glare at Crowley. "No," he said calmly, staring him down, facing him. Anger flickered across Crowley's face before he nodded slowly and Castiel could tell that he was thinking up some other way to get his month's worth of rent.

"Okay, love, trousers down," he said as if it were a perfectly normal thing to ask someone to do in a middle of a dirty alleyway.

"What the-? You're kidding, right?" Cas breathed out as a chuckle, trying to keep his confident facade up. Crowley glared at him before pulling a knife out from where it was tucked away in his belt.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" he asked and Cas bit down on his bottom lip nervously. He was scared now. Sure, Crowley had been like this many times before, but not right here in such a public place.

"C-Can't we go somewhere more ... private?"

Crowley paused for a while, blinking once before barking out a laugh. "This isn't a tender, lovemaking session. It's a payment. Now, drop your trousers before I carve you a new one," he demanded, dragging the cold blade of the knife against Cas' cheek gently.

Castiel shook his head again, this time more firmly. This obviously was the last straw for Crowley as he let out an impatient growl before reaching over to try and undo Cas' pants himself. Castiel immediately began struggling, groaning as he tried to push Crowley away. He didn't want to do this; not here. Not anywhere, but he knew that he didn't really have a choice.

"No- please don't," he groaned, punching and pushing at him but Crowley was just too fucking strong.

He was about to give up and just let Crowley have his way with him so that he could get it over and done with minimal damage. That was when there was a loud, booming shout at the end of the alleyway. Cas couldn't really make out who it was at first, but soon a fist is connecting with Crowley's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards with his arm over his face as he swore loudly. He glared once more at Cas, looking extra dangerous thanks to how dark it was in the alleyway, shadows cast over his face.

"This ain't over, pretty-boy" he barked out, pointing at him, before clearly figuring out that it wasn't worth it and walking away quickly, spitting out some blood and muttering angrily to himself.

Even though this situation was now over, Castiel knew this would only make things worse in the long run. He decided he was angry at this 'hero' person. So, after fixing himself up, he walked towards them and pushed them roughly, soon noticing it was leather jacket guy.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" he shouted, hands balled into fists, still shaking thanks to the adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream.

"To save your ass," was the guy's reply which made Cas laugh humorlessly.

"Yeah? Well, my ass doesn't need saving," he replied, getting up in the guy's personal space- god, calling him 'the guy' and 'leather jacket guy' was getting really fucking old. "I don't need you to protect me! I don't even know your damn name!"

"Dean!" the guys yelled, breath warm against his face as Castiel just blinked. "My name is Dean," he repeated, softer and calmer as they stared at each other. Castiel stepped back and nodded a little, arms folded across his chest in a defensive posture.

"So, can I maybe have your number now?"

Castiel's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. Dean was really asking for his number at a time like this? This guy had no sense of appropriateness. "Ugh, you never give up, do you?" he groaned, averting his gaze to the dark night's sky above them and breathing out slowly. He could hear Dean huffing out a chuckle and when he looked over at him there was a cocky smirk on his lips. It made him want to poke his eyeballs out with a stick or something.

God, he hated this Dean guy so fucking much. He made his blood boil. But there was something else, something deeper than that that he definitely didn't want to put his finger on. "Whatever," he grumbled, deciding that this may be the only way to get Dean to leave him alone.

He walked towards him, slipping a pen out of his back pocket and taking the lid off it with his teeth before grabbing Dean's hand roughly and scribbling down his phone number on his palm, rolling his eyes when Dean squirmed a little under his touch. Once he was finished, he shoved the pen back in his pocket before turning around to leave.

"That offer for a drink still stands," Dean's voice echoed through the alleyway. Castiel shook his head almost instantly.

"And the answer is still no," he replied with a grin before turning the corner as he swayed his hips unnecessarily just to tease Dean a little. Wow, the guy - now known as Dean apparently - really was determined. Determined and stupid. Who the hell would get involved when Crowley was trying to get his money worth from him? He could've gotten seriously hurt, Crowley wasn't exactly one to walk away like that.

That worried him a little, he knew fine well that this definitely wasn't over and that Crowley would probably be waiting for him when he got home. He decided to enjoy the rest of his night though. He spent most of it smoking away his anxiety over Crowley.

"Woah, slow down there, Thomas the Tank Engine," Balthazar chuckled, taking the twenty-pack of cigarettes away from Cas slowly - there was only about 5 left in the actual box right now and he'd only bought the packet a few hours ago.

"Thomas the what?" Cas asked, eyebrows knitted together before he took the last pull from his cigarette before stubbing it into the ashtray and blowing the smoke up into the air slowly.

"Never mind," Balthazar laughed as he got to his feet. "Time to get the party started. Let's go clubbing."

"Seconded!" Charlie giggled, obviously more than a little drunk right now.

Even though Castiel didn't feel very much like clubbing, he didn't feel very much about going back to the apartment to face Crowley either. So, in the end, he tagged along with Charlie and Balthazar who thoroughly enjoyed their night on the town. After getting hit on by tons of drunk guys and girls, Castiel decided to call it a night at the early time of 1.30am. He took a taxi home and, as he was fumbling blindly with his keys for his apartment, he prayed to a god that he didn't believe in that Crowley wouldn't be in there waiting for him.

Obviously, Castiel had never been lucky in anything. The moment he managed to open the door, Crowley was sat in the rocking chair in front of the television seemingly waiting for him with infomercials playing on the late night TV channel.

Cas sighed heavily, closing the door quietly behind himself and shrugging off his trenchcoat, hanging it on the makeshift coat hanger which was actually just a nail hammered into the back of the door.

"Finally home are we?" Crowley's thick British accent made Castiel want to shoot himself in the face as he turned to face the back of his chair.

"What are you doing here, Crowley?" he asked, voice firm and definitely not trembling a little.

Crowley chuckled huskily as he set his beer down on the messy coffee table before getting to his feet with a soft groan and turning to face Castiel with a lopsided grin. "You're not that stupid, college boy," he answered, eyeing him up and down. "Since I'm in a good mood, I've decided to give you one more day. No money, no apartment." He then walked over right into Cas' personal space, two fingers pressing under his chin to tilt his head up a little. "Or maybe we can come to another ... agreement." Castiel glared right into his eyes, never backing down with his gaze.

"I'll have the money," he answered with cold determination in his voice.

Thankfully, Crowley mustn't have felt in the mood to mess with him tonight. He just took a step back and shot him a smirk before sauntering out the door. Castiel stayed in the exact same position; pressed up against the wall as he listened to Crowley's footsteps heading down the corridor, getting softer and softer. Once he could no longer hear them, he let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding and sank down to rest his head against the wall, shaking fingers searching around for his cigarettes.

One left.


End file.
